Crashed
by Epsarrow
Summary: TC and Drew get into a car accident on the way back to the ER on a foggy night. Shameless whump, shameless friendship. Two-shot. Rated T for blood, maybe a curse or two, and cautious description of injury. No specific timetable.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own The Night Shift.

Note: Does not take place at a specific point in the series, so for the sake of simplicity let's just it's occurs any time before season 4. This will basically be a 2 part story - first part of the incident... second part of what occurs after. While this story is based on Drew and TC they are _just_ friends in this story.

Part 1

* * *

"Do you think we should pull over?" Drew asked from the passenger seat, looking worriedly out the windows. TC was inclined to agree. Night had fallen and brought with it enough fog that he could barely see the road in front of him. If it wasn't for the headlights of other vehicles, he likely wouldn't be able to see any of them through the fog. The lack of visibility made for dangerous driving conditions, not only because he could barely see the road, but because other cars may have trouble seeing _them_.

"I would, but there's a barrier. We'd just be sitting ducks for any idiot going too fast," he responded. The barrier wouldn't leave enough room to pull off completely, and even if they could it would still not be an ideal situation.

He drove forward as fast as he dared, watching for headlights in his mirror.

They were supposed to be heading back o the ER after checking on an injured patient who had refused transport. His wife had called for help but the husband refused anything more than on scene help, saying he couldn't afford a visit to the hospital - an all too common complaint. People who refused treatment because they couldn't afford it. People who, with or without insurance, would not be able to pay the bill for an ambulance ride to the ER. Life saving scans and treatments that people didn't have money to pay for. It was appalling to TC that so many people, even those who had insurance, could be faced with death simply because of affordability. They tried to help when they could, getting pro bono cases, approving free scans, paying for things themselves. But there was only so much a hospital could do, and at the end of the day when the patient very firmly says no, they have to listen.

"How far out are we?" Drew asked, interrupting TC's musings. He glanced at the clock on the car, manually counting the time down. He knew where they were but not far down the road they had gone.

"Probably 20 minutes, at this speed," he said. They were already 30 minutes later than they should be, and he had gotten several calls from Topher and Jordan wondering where they were. The ER was booked due to many car accidents, and he had made the remark that he didn't want to go too fast and end up as another one of those accidents.

Up ahead he could see traffic lights, blinking orange. For some reason the lights were down, and he cautiously slowed to a halt before crossing. The intersection was empty, and he didn't see any headlights battling through the fog in any of the lanes. He could hear nothing other than the rumbling of the engine, and with one last check to make sure no one was coming, he began to go straight through. Beside him Drew was tabbing on his smart phone, texting someone.

TC glanced sideways casually, aware a moment too late that a car was coming. He could see the reflection of the lights dancing off a glossy windshield. The lights on the car were off. Of course they were. Who would turn their lights on when there is zero visibility without them? That was the only thought that crossed his mind, because the car was speeding, not stopping, blaring on its horn. And he had pulled out in front of it, and now there was nowhere to go. "Watch out," he managed to shout, throwing up one arm to protect his head, perhaps too late to even give Drew enough time to brace himself.

Then the car barreled into them, and his window explored inward. The next moments were nothing but a whirlwind of things. Glass sprayed him, metal crunched inwards. The wheel was ripped from his hands as the car spun out of control. His head whipped to one side, tires screeched, a side airbag stuttered into life moments too late.

Nauseating pain, confusion, and then silence.

* * *

 **Drew POV**

He had a bad feeling. It was dangerous to be out on the road like this, and while TC _was_ driving more carefully than usual it was still worrying. He had stopped to text Jordan that they were almost there when he heard TC's startled shout.

His head whipped around to see a car with its lights off slam into the driver's side of the car, and then they were spinning. Glass peppered him even on the other side of the car, cutting skin. His head bounced off the window before the side airbag kicked in, delayed by age, stopping him from bonking his head a second time on hard glass. Even so he found himself momentarily unable to focus, unable to see as their car spun well off the road, cracking hard off something solid - a barrier? For a moment he was too stun to respond, until he managed to lift his head off the dash in time to see the car that had struck them racing off into the foggy night.

His head pounded, and the wrist he had braced himself on the door felt broken. They had, fortunately, not rolled, but there was smoke - or was it just more fog? - rising from the front of the car. He groaned slightly as he turned his head.

"Tee?" He rasped. His phone was gone, probably having broken in the accident. His friend was motionless in the driver's seat, head resting sideways against the deflated airbag. He could see blood dripping from his hair. "Shit," he said, managing to pull his own seat belt off. Shattered glass was everywhere over the seats, and he grimaced as he cut his hand. He managed to push his door open, before leaning across the midway to reach TC. His pulse was strong, but his hand came back smeared with blood. He had taken the brunt of the shattered glass, after all. He tried to shove open the driver side door but it was crushed inwards, unyielding. Normally he wouldn't want to move anyone after an accident but there was blood, there was smoke, and he couldn't check the injuries while wedged against the steering wheel.

He managed to find TC's phone. The screen was cracked, but it still worked. He found himself calling the hospital instead of 911, wincing slightly when it was Jordan who answered and he had to come up with a really good explanation without making her panic.

"Hey Jordan. We need a rescue to..." Unlike TC he hadn't had any idea where they were... "Uh. We're at an intersection, twenty minutes out..." He trailed off.

"What? What happened?" She asked, instantly alarmed. And probably alerting every single person in the ER to what was happening.

"We are going across the intersection. Some car hit us, no lights on, didn't see it." He didn't know why he was trying to make excuses for the crash since that wasn't what was important right now. "Need an ambulance." He didn't know the extent of TC's injuries, or even fully his own. His body was aching.

"Okay," she sounded as if she was deliberately trying to keep herself calm. "You don't know which road you were on?"

"No. Couldn't see the signs. We were heading straight back from the patient's home. On that road for awhile..." He trailed off, trying to think of where they would be. Unfortunately he didn't frequently travel in this particular area.

"I have an idea where you are then. I don't know how quickly rescue can get to you. Are you... stable?"

Drew glanced at TC's motionless form for a moment and decided not to mention his unconsciousness. "Yes." He checked around for signs of headlights of potential traffic but everything was dark. Even their own car was dark, damaged enough that the lights weren't able to stay on. If they were still in the road it was too risky to remain in the vehicle in case another car came and didn't see them and hit them again. "We need to get away from the car, we're stuck in the road and it's dead," he said. In any other situation it was safer to remain in the vehicle. But not like this.

"Okay," she said, nervously. "Call me if anything changes," she said. Drew nodded and quickly pocketed the phone. TC still hadn't woken, his hair still red with his own blood.

He unfastened the seatbelt first before carefully grabbing his shoulders, turning him so that his head rested against Drew's chest to support his neck. His broken wrist prevented him from getting a grip so he wrapped his arm around Tee's chest, the other getting a hold of his shirt, although his cut hand was now slick with blood. He worked to carefully manhandle his friend from the car with as little injury as possible, his hand slipping when TC shifted against him. "Hang on, we're almost there," he said, hearing a groan of pain. He kept backing until he stepped on grass instead of tar, and then a few feet beyond that he stopped. The car would be a between them and the road.

He lowered TC onto the grass and then promptly dropped down beside him, suddenly exhausted. The cool night air was soothing, but the fog clung to his skin like a cold mist. He forced himself up and opened the trunk, pulling out the emergency flashlight so he could at least see somewhat in the darkness. Turning the light on he saw that TC's eyes were opened, although they squinted when the light shone near. One side of his face was covered in cuts made by glass. But the worst he could see was the arm. He had probably tried to protect his head, causing it to take the brunt of the impact. Blood streamed down his arm from his elbow, which was lacerated with sharp shards of glass still embedded. And it was broken, clear as anything. The most he could do was try and slow the bleeding, but even that would be hindered by the fact there was still glass in the wounds.

"Tee, you with me?"

"Yeah," TC's voice was quiet, hoarse, and his eyes wouldn't focus. "Sorry," he added.

Drew frowned as he pulled a spare shirt from the trunk, and folded it to use it to stop the bleeding. "For what? No one would have seen that jackass with his lights off," he said. Additionally a jackass for taking off and leaving them. As he began to draw the shirt wound the wound he tried to block out the cry of pain. It was hard to wrap something lightly enough that it wouldn't press in the glass more or aggravate the broken joint, and also stop the bleeding at the same time.

In fact, it was downright impossible. Not like this, in the dark, with nothing to use.

To his surprise TC had struggled to a sitting position, propping himself up against the barrier that, a little further down, their car had bounced off of. "You shouldn't do that," Drew warned, aware of potential spinal damage or broken bones, but his friend paid little mind to that.

"I'm fine," TC replied, voice still weak. Pale, shaking, he wasn't quite able to pull off the lie.

Drew sighed. TC was always the worst patient. But there was nothing to do except wait, and hope there wasn't any major injuring that his friend was hiding, and that another cat didn't smack into them on its way. His broken wrist throbbed painfully and he couldn't even move the fingers on that hand. Somewhere in the far distance, he could hear sirens.

And then it began to rain.

* * *

End chapter note: I always picture Drew as a big brother kind of guy, trying to keep his friends safe and getting all protective (maybe it's just me?). Anyway, part 2 will involve cold rain, an ambulance ride, and a hospital! It will be up sometime during the week. This story came to mind when I was driving last week, and it was nighttime, and super foggy and I just could not _see_ anything. I hope to write and read enough fanfictions that it will bring me through the cancellation.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own The Night Shift.

Note: I will be starting the whump collection story sometime after this (within a few days, most likely). Thanks for reading! Also whoops about the typo (I read it three times, darnit!), unfortunately I already started editing the file for the next part so I won't be retyping all of Part 1 to fix... at least it's funny!

Part 2

* * *

He kept his eyes closed, afraid if he opened them that he would throw up. He wasn't sure if the nausea was a result of shock or from pain itself, but it was strong, and his stomach kept lurching in irritation. He tried to ignore it, to focus on the sound of rain pelting the ground, or Drew talking, or the distant wail of sirens that he wasn't sure was coming for them or not. The only thing more overpowering than the nausea was the pain in his arm. He hadn't dared to look at it, not even when Drew had wrapped a shirt around it to stem the bleeding, the first aid kit in the mess of the front seat, probably unreachable. It was excruciating. He wasn't able to move it even if he wanted to, which he _most certainly did not_. While the pain was focused mainly on the elbow joint, it radiated up and down his arm. The blood pulsing out of it was enough to tell he had cuts from the glass, but beyond that he knew nothing. Broken, most likely. He almost wish he hadn't thrown up the arm to protect himself, even though that would have meant his head would have taken the brunt of the injury.

He breathed in and out slowly as his stomach complained once more, trying to control it. He did not want to be that person who puked on the side of the road. Well, he had done so before but he had been alone and hungover all those times. Not in front of a friend.

He needed a distraction. He opened his eyes a little to see what little there was out there. He couldn't tell the difference between hazy vision and fog and rain so he didn't try to. Hair, heavy with blood, was hanging annoyingly in front of his eyes. But with one arm dangling, useless, and the other wrapped around his stomach as though that simple pressure would stop him from heaving, he didn't try to move it. Instead he forced himself to focus on Drew, who paced anxiously as if unable to stop. Breathe in, breathe out, squash the nausea. He would distract himself by checking if Drew was okay.

There was a slight limp, but he was unable to focus enough to determine which leg was injured, if the injury was on the leg. There was a cloth wrapped around one of his hands, tinged red with blood. As Drew's pacing turned him around he could see the bruise forming on his head from an impact with the side of the car. And he was cradling his wrist.

TC tried to squint, but the action made him feel dangerously sick, and he had to stop and close his eyes, at least for a little bit. Steady breathing for a few moments sent the feeling back down, and he blinked his eyes open. The cold rain should have made him feel at least slightly better, but instead he just felt clammy and sweaty. It clung to his body, as if he was sick with a fever, and did nothing to help ease the churning in his stomach.

"Is your wrist broken?" He asked, distracting himself, and perhaps Drew, from their current struggles.

Drew turned to look at him, giving him a strange look that he figured was an _are you serious_ stare. "Yes. It's not serious, though," he said pointedly. _It's not currently bleeding everywhere,_ is what he probably meant. "You must be freezing," he added, frowning. TC felt a flicker of confusion. He felt chilled, but not cold. Drew must have noticed his confusion. "You're shaking," he said, finally stopping his pacing and kneeling down.

He didn't even notice he had been shaking, not even with the constant movement of his field of vision. "I don't feel cold." But in reality, he probably _was_ , but the sensation was likely being overridden by the nausea. He could hear the sound of sirens getting closer, the sounds distorted in the thick air. It was an eerie noise, echoing like screams in the night. It was a sign that the rescue was getting close, probably going down the entire stretch of the road for a sign of the wreck. It was hard to find without an exact location, and with a thick fog permeating the air.

"Don't pass out on me," Drew was saying.

"I won't." He wouldn't. At least, he hoped he wouldn't. He wasn't sure he'd have any control over the matter, but as it was he still felt as though he was either going to be sick or scream in pain the moment his arm moved so he felt pretty conscious.

Lights were flashing nearby, and he squinted when the sirens pierced through his headache. The squint was shared by Drew, who had smacked his head on the window of the car. He was suddenly well aware that he had to move but he certainly didn't want to. Movement meant pain. And the ambulance meant a lot of noise and sound, and worse, the jostling of the road as they went over bumps and turned corners. He looked on with blurring vision, queasiness growing with every movement.

* * *

 **Drew POV**

He was frustrated with not being able to do anything. The pounding in his head gave way to irritation, and his wrist felt as if it was twice as large as it should be. The cold rain left a chill down his spine. Many people believed Texas was always hot and dry, being far South. But what people didn't know was how far nighttime temperatures could drop, even in the summer seasons. It made him regret leaving the car, but the smell of smoke had started to grow, and with it, the sharp tang of gasoline. If a single spark lit it would blow the entire car into pieces. TC's voice pulled him from his annoyance, and he realized his friend was looking at him, pale and shivering. And somehow, was concerned about _him._

At first Drew was worried TC was about to faint, but he realized there was a sharp awareness in his eyes, despite the pale, shakiness, bright with pain. The ambulance pulled up, fortunately having spotted their vehicle, and he was relieved when it was Gwen that was one of the medics. Mainly because she and TC actually got _along._

"Okay, let's get you up," he said, nodding to Gwen to help. "Don't touch his left arm," he warned her. She didn't, but it turned out it didn't matter because as soon as they tried to haul him to his feet his injured arm dropped down from gravity and his entire body recoiled in pain. He crumpled between them, curling into himself. For a moment Drew thought he had passed out, if it wasn't for the shudder that he felt pass through his friend's bloodied form.

"Tee, we just need to go forward a little bit and then we'll let you down, okay?" Gwen said, worry etched onto her face.

Silence.

Between them they could feel his shaking, and Drew saw that he was even more pale than before, beads of sweat on his skin. And then he saw that blood had soaked through the makeshift bandage-shirt, the movement having caused something to shift or open worse. "We need to move now," Drew said. TC was in shock and unresponsive, so they manhandled him over the guardrail where John had set up a stretcher. It was difficult to move someone one-handed, even with a second person, but no sound was made other than ragged breathing. Drew would have been less worried if TC had been screaming in pain. Silence was unnerving.

As they managed to get him on the stretcher he tried to help Gwen prepare an IV, but her sharp eye didn't miss anything. "You sit down, your wrist is broken and you're bleeding. We need to get to the ER as quickly as we can," she said to John who had climbed into the front seat.

* * *

 **TC POV**

He remembered bits and pieces after the accident. Agonizing pain, nausea, dizziness and weakness. Of blood streaming from his arm. Sirens, people talking, the sound of a beep. Then nothing. He woke to far calmer settings. Or was it the combination of confusion and weariness that had settled over him that made it seem that way? His body barely listened to him when he tried to open his eyes, and his limbs felt heavy. After several minutes of trying to put the pieces of everything that had happened together, he managed to get his eyes open. He was searching for a certain face when he scanned the room, but didn't see it. Instead, he saw an exhausted Jordan sleeping on a chair, and an also exhausted Topher in a chair beside her. Light trickled in through the window. It was daytime now, so he must have been out for quite some time.

He tried to speak but ended up coughing, alerting Topher and waking up Jordan who immediately bombarded him with concern.

"How are you feeling?"

"Are you in any pain?"

"I'm okay," he responded, throat dry and raspy. He didn't feel any pain at all which was, in and of itself, a great thing. He still remembered the agonizing sensation in his arm - mostly in the elbow - prior to waking up. "How is Drew?" He asked.

"He's fine. Broken wrist, mild concussion, a few glass lacerations. Banged up his knee. You guys got pretty lucky," Topher admitted. "Although you would have been luckier if the airbags had functioned properly," he added. TC had the vague memory of a partially filling airbag inflating too late to be of use. It had been an older car, and likely had some faults in the electrical system. Maybe it was time to upgrade the car.

"That's good," he replied tiredly. Somehow, he didn't feel lucky. There was a knot in his stomach, anxiety that had built up just at the small flickers of memory. "What about the other car?" He asked.

Had they been found? People who had no regard for anyone else on the road was a danger to everyone around them, and shouldn't be allowed to drive. But he couldn't remember anything about the car that had hit them, or even if he had seen a glimpse of those inside. He wasn't sure if Drew had seen them either, and with no visual description it would be hard to track down anyone. Most likely it would end up as a dead end. Especially with all of the car accidents that had occurred already, and people going off the road. Even a car that looked like it had been in an accident wouldn't raise too many alarms. They could had gone off and hit a railing but still been okay to drive.

"Not found. Drew didn't get a good luck at it." Jordan said, her hand hovering over the bandages he just realized were on his face. "Did you?" She had to ask, he knew, but moments before the car hit were still overshadowed with broken windows and crunching metal and pain as if the entire frame of the car had smashed his arm.

"No. I only saw it because the traffic lights lit off the front of it, right before it hit," he replied.

There was a long period of silence after that made tensions rise. As if they had something to say but were uncomfortable with saying it.

"Okay, what is it?" He asked.

"Your arm. It probably saved your life by taking the brunt of the impact but some of the cuts were very deep and you lost a lot of blood. We saved your arm, don't worry," Topher added when TC immediately thought he may have lost part of it. "But... I'm not sure if it will heal fully. We had to stop before we could repair the elbow - which is shattered, by the way - because you lost too much blood."

TC nodded, processing, understanding. Although he understood what Topher was saying he found he didn't really care all that much. Not at the moment, at least. All that mattered now was that Drew was okay. Healing would come later.

"We've got someone coming in to help with the bone repair. Screws, plates, the whole deal. I hear they turn people in to a walking barometer," Topher was trying to lighten the mood.

"Sounds like a party."

One he'd be happily unconscious for. "How are you feeling?" Jordan asked quietly, after a few minutes had gone by. Topher stepped out to take a call, and he found himself relaxing in the midst of a painkiller daze. He was for the moment glad he didn't feel anything.

"Just tired," he said.

"I'm glad you're alright. You even scared Ragosa when you came in," she said with a smile.

"Ragosa? No way. He's probably in his office celebrating," he laughed. They were joking, of course. He knew while he and Ragosa hadn't really gotten along things had gotten better since he quit his earlier position.

A head poked into the room, and he finally saw Drew, with a large bruise on his head. The man stepped in quickly, as if he had to sneak his way in just to get here. A look at Jordan's pointed glare told him Drew had most certainly ignored a certain order to rest and made it over. "I'm glad you're awake, no one would tell me much," Drew said. TC's eyes fell upon the wrist in a cast, and the other and wrapped in gauze. A slight limp, some minor cuts. Nothing serious, fortunately.

"But just so you know, I'm driving next time."

* * *

End chapter note: Phew. For some reason I had a hard time writing this part. I'm not sure why! The words just weren't flowing as easily as they usually. Of course, my muse is pointing forwards, ready to write a billion one-shots, and that may have claimed my attention. Anyway: John is a random name so if you're wondering who it is in the show, it's just a random paramedic. And while I watch tons of medical dramas and read lots of medical books I still can't remember anything medical for more than 5 seconds so I apologize if anything was unrealistic. Anyway, I'm real excited to start the collection of one-shots and get the whump flowing! Anyone else constantly checking for news on Netflix or Sony picking up the series? I just can't give up on it!


End file.
